When the Alleycats Cry
by lock shock and barrel
Summary: Vignettes of a certain gamin's life.


**A/n: Random Gavroche drabble. Because I love him. Who doesn't? Except...you know. People who don't. It goes...chronological-ish.**

**Baby in the Corner**

"No, no, Gavroche, say _Maman_."

"_Rrra._"

Eponine sighed in exasperation. Shifting about, she tucked her legs beneath her and smoothed her blue dress. After spending hours attempting in vain to wrestle a single word out of her little brother, her new dress would certainly be ruined from being on the floor.

"_Maman_."

"_Mrrew._"

Frustrated, Eponine pulled herself up in a rather unladylike fashion and stomped off to play with Azelma, leaving Gavroche to sit alone on the floor. The child soon began to cry. But no one cared to see what had upset him. They were far too busy.

**Along Came a Spider**

"Come along, Gavroche, Maman says it's time to go."

Although his sister had been tugging at his sleeve for quite some time, the child was far too engrossed in his own fantastical world. An army of ants had trapped a yellow spider, millions of tiny black legs tumbling over a slim golden body, marching in tandem. A child's fingers wish to reach so much; the moon, the stars. Yet only the hands of an artist could have saved this thread of poetry. As Gavroche reached to rescue the spider, his little pink fingers held too tightly the delicate frame of the creature. It was killed quickly.

"Come _on_."

Carefully analyzing the colorful remains of the victim, the child sniffled, returning home with death on his mind.

**Leading the Blind**

"Montparnasse, have you got anything to eat? Let's go for dinner. I find that an excellent idea."

"Gavroche, how many times have I threatened you today?"

"More than I'd like to remember, I s'pose."

It had been seven times, in fact. The devil's dandy was in a fair mood tonight; most times after four, he began to make good on his threats.

"I've got a new cat, Montparnasse. For my elephant. I named it after you. I'm not sure if it's actually a boy, though."

Thinking intently, Gavroche was actually quite certain the kitten he'd take from the gutter was female. It was curiously pretty, too, with ivory fur, albeit patches of grime and dirt, and large pink eyes. It was useless to catch the rats, though; the ugly creatures would all but perch themselves on the cat's paws without being noticed.

"It's odd, Montparnasse. It can't catch a thing. Aren't all cats supposed to be able to kill rats?"

"Simply your luck, Gavroche, getting a failure of a cat."

Indignant, Gavroche stormed off. He would waste the rest of the evening trying to teach a blind cat to kill.

**The Wisdom of Alleycats**

There were three cats, sprawled out on a heap of bricks. Gavroche had counted them over again. Three. All hideous, patchy alleycats, their hips jutting out in every direction and their eyes yellow with disease. One, two, three. A cart could have come by and crushed them all at once, and no one would care. No one would miss them. Perhaps their mothers would cry, if only their mothers hadn't been devoured by the starving dogs. No tears shed for a pack of vagabonds, all the same to those above, so easily disposed of.

But to any other alleycat, they were so vastly different, each with his yarn to weave. Gavroche fancied he could hear them speak

"_How goes it, Julien?_"

"_Only as well as hunger would allow it, I'm afraid. Ah, Jeauvanier, I hardly saw you. How's your brother?_"

"_I fear the worst, Julien, I've not seen him since Tuesday._"

The gamin threw a stone at the group, sending them scattering.

If only others would hear the tongues of alleycats; perhaps they would know much more.

**Bonds Undone**

There was no more pain. Filth and blood caked his face, and somewhere distant he felt a throbbing in his head. But he could not see the gaping hole there, so it did not matter. Familiar voices crashed together, flooding his mind. A heavy hand turned him over on his back; he could not see who it was. He saw everything, and he saw nothing. He saw a woman, her arms outstretched to him. She was hideous, her hair hacked up nearly to her skull, her teeth missing, her body no more than a feeble skeleton. But her eyes held so much love, so much warmth, that among the carnage, she was beautiful.

"Gavroche."

It was time to go home.

Even alleycats return to Jesus.


End file.
